Hospital Day
by KingCrabShipping
Summary: Alfred is in the hospital, when his favourite Brit doesn't come to visit that day. Will he come later? Maybe.  One-shot, AlfredxArthur, Alfred's POV. T for suggestive themes, but nothing explicit. Please read and review!


I know. I should be working on my other story. :| And I am, but I've just been really busy lately. So hopefully this will suffice? *is hopeful*

Anyway, this is a oneshot that I wrote. It took me like 10 minutes, so don't get too mad if it completely sucks. And it probably does. But I still want feedback on how to make it better, what parts you liked, what parts you didn't like, the usual.

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Alfred sat upright, stopping his dream. Where was he? Oh yeah. He remembered. He was in the hospital. The blonde ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. Forgetting where he was, was a common thing now; every morning he would wake up from some sort of weird dream, not knowing where he was. But then he would remember soon afterwards.

Alfred picked up the small notebook and black pen on the table next to his bed. What gad he dreamt last night? He'd made a habit of writing down his dreams ever since they started having reoccurring themes. It was usually the same; they all had him in it.

Him.

Just the thought of him made Alfred smile, like he was doing now. His eyes blurred and he wiped at them with the back of his hand. Him, who made Alfred happy. Him, who made Alfred smile when he was feeling depressed. Him, who Alfred would anything for.

Him, who Alfred loved.

Alfred chewed his bottom lip, staring at the clock, wishing for the hands to move faster.

Just ten more minutes until 8 AM.

Just ten more minutes until he would be happy once again.

Just ten more minutes until he would come running in, and over to Alfred to give him a hug.

Those hugs were always so warm. Warmer then any other people's hugs in the world. In the universe.

Five more minutes.

Alfred stared at the clock for the next few minutes. It seemed to go on forever, before finally the small noise signaling the hour chimed. Alfred's head snapped to face the door. Blue eyes that used to be a bright cerulean, but were now more of a grey blue, glared at the door.

Where was he?

He was always here right on time.

So why wasn't he here?

A sharp pain went through Alfred's chest. His heart felt like it had been ripped into two.

He must not care.

He obviously doesn't.

Did he ever really care?

Or was it just sympathy that drove him to visit Alfred?

He must hate him.

He must not care if Alfred dies.

Alfred could feel the tears in his eyes, but made no move to wipe them away. Instead, he pressed the button on the remote to the left of his bed. Soon after, a nurse came in.

"Yes, Mr. Jones?" she asked. "Do you need something?"

Alfred hesitated. Should he really do this? Was it the right thing to do? Yes, he was going to. But he wouldn't want him to.

No.

He didn't matter anymore.

He took a deep breath. "I want to go through with the surgery."

The nurse looked started. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me." Alfred suddenly felt very confidant. "I want the surgery."

"B-but sir," the nurse stammered. "There's a very low chance of survival with that type of surgery." she walked over to Alfred and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm completely sure of it."

The nurse sighed. "Fine. I'll tell the doctor.". She left the white room and walked down the hallway. Alfred could hear her high heals as they clip-clopped, making her sound like a horse.

Pretty soon the doctor and his assistant wheeled Alfred out of his room and into the hallway. As he was pushed, he glanced to his right to look at the reception desk. There was a man arguing with the reception lady. The weird thing was that that man had a very familiar mop of blond hair.

Wait a minute, was that...?

Before Alfred could think about it more, he was wheeled into a large room. He was picked up and placed into a different bed, and Alfred noticed the doctor now held some strange device.

"This is going to go on your face, and you need to breath normally so that you'll inhale it. It's an anesthetic and it will also make you sleep while the surgery is going on."

The mask was placed on Alfred's face, and the last thing he heard before he fell asleep was the doctor talking to an assistant about how he 'can't mess up or it will be fatal'.

When Alfred awoke, he was back in the room he was in before the surgery. The first thing he hear before opening his eyes was a man's voice yelling. Alfred's eyes didn't want to open, but he managed to get them open enough to see who or what it was. As soon as he opened them, he looked at the door.

No way.

It was him.

Why was here?

Alfred tried to speak, but it ended up coming out as a cough. Both heads of the men snapped to Alfred. The doctor quickly made his way to Alfred, the other man close behind him.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Alfred tried to speak again, and this time he as able to whisper out the word 'horrible'. Alfred made eye contact with the blonde that stood by him, next to the doctor.

"Would you like to be alone?" the doctor asked.

Alfred nodded, his eyes never straying from the green ones staring back at him. The doctor left, and it was just Alfred and the other.

"Dammit Alfred," the man spoke through his teeth. Alfred blushed at hearing the British accent he loved so much.

"Artie," he began.

"Don't call me that you git."

"...Arthur, then.". Alfred was barely able to sit up by himself, with all the pain in his stomach, bug he did anyway. He wanted to show Arthur he was strong. "Arthur, you know the surgery was for the best."

Arthur's fist came down hard on the table next to him. His eyes were like green flames as he glared into Alfred's blue ones. "Bollocks, Alfred," his eyes suddenly softened. "You...could've died, you bloody idiot. And I..." he diverted his eyes and Alfred saw his face tinge pink. "I could've lost you. Forever. I would never be able to deal with that, Alfred."

Alfred's own face turned a rosy colour at that statement. "I would never want to leave you Artie...we're best friends..." Oh, how Alfred wished they could've been more than that. He wanted to hold Arthur in his arms and kiss away his tears when he was sad. He wanted to see that smile on Arthur's face; the one that rarely even shown, except when he was very happy. Tears threatened to fall as Alfred silently thought about it. Arthur, however, had tears streaming down his face. Alfred couldn't take it anymore. The thought that he might never get a better, or even another, chance to tell Arthur his feelings was tearing his heart apart. "Arthur," Alfred said, his face only showing seriousness. He held out his arms. "Come here."

Arthur looked surprised, but complied, his face turning beet red as Alfred held Arthur close to him. Alfred then pulled Arthur away, at half-arms length, and gazed into his favourite green orbs. "Your eyes..." he said. Arthur's face was still red.

"My-my eyes?" he whispered. "What about them?"

"They remind me of grass on a summer day. They remind me of emeralds on wedding rings." Just then, Alfred took his hand and placed it on the back of Arthur's head, pulling both their faces close together, lips almost touching. Arthur's face now rivaled one of Antonio's tomatoes, and Alfred's was just as red. "And they're beautiful." Alfred connected their lips.

For the first few seconds, neither moved. Alfred couldn't believe he was kissing Arthur; the one who, even through constant insults, he loved. Alfred had dreamed about this moment for years.

Suddenly, Alfred felt something pushing against his lips. Arthur was kissing him.

Wait, what?

Arthur? Was _kissing_ him?

Alfred, once again, didn't know what to do. So he what felt natural; he kissed back.

The kiss was long and passionate. As their mouths moved against each other's, they found a rhythm. Alfred tried to put as much as he could into it; he wanted to convey all of the emotion he had bottled up inside to Arthur.

At one point, Alfred slid his tongue into Arthur's mouth. Arthur moaned as the slippery muscle explored his whole mouth, causing Alfred to feel a little turned on by the noise. Alfred moaned back at Arthur, and as he glanced downward, he could tell Arthur was feeling a little turned on too from the small bulge that seemed to grow a but bigger.

As much ad he didn't want to, Alfred broke the kiss. Arthur tried to reconnect their lips, bug Alfred avoided it, and instead moved his mouth down to Arthur's jaw. He licked and nipped his way to his pulse, and began to suck on it, making Arthur whimper with pleasure. He continued to suck, and Arthur moved himself so that he was straddling Alfred's hips. He rubbed his hips against Alfred's, creating friction between the pair's growing erections. Alfred made a groaning noise in his throat, and Arthur pulled Alfred away from his next to capture his lips in his own. Reluctantly, Alfred pulled away and gazed into Arthur's eyes and Arthur did the same. All signs of lust were gone from both their eyes. "I love you..." Alfred said quietly.

Arthur's eyes grew teary, and he immediately bent to hug Alfred. "I...I love you too...you git."

Alfred smiled, and he pressed a soft kiss to the other's forehead.

The two stayed like that for a few minutes, until soft clip-clops of high heels could be heard nit to far away. Startled, Arthur jumped off of Alfred and hurried to go stand next to Alfred's bed. Soon after, a nurse came in. "Mr. Jones?"

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid your visitor must leave now."

Alfred looked at Arthur, and Arthur looked back at him. Arthur smirked as he went over to Alfred and bent down close to his ear. "How about when you're out the hospital you come over to my house and we'll finish what we started?" he whispered in a husky tone.

Alfred smirked too. "Sounds like a wonderful plan," he mumbled back. "Now I can't wait to get out of here."

Arthur stood up all the way, turned to the door, and hesitated. Face flushing, he gave Alfred a quick hug. "Bye..."

Alfred hugged back. "And you better be on time tomorrow," he said jokingly.

"Of course," the Brit responded, smiling lovingly.

As Arthur walked out of the room, nurse following, Alfred couldn't help but smile a huge spent grin. Arthur loved him. Arthur. Loved him. Alfred couldn't stop saying it over and over in his head. Alfred laid down, resting his head on the white pillow. Before today, he wouldn't complain about how lumpy and hard the pillow was, but not today. After what happened today, Alfred felt like the luckiest man in the world, and nothing could stop him from being happy. He closed his eyes, and tried to fall asleep. As he slept, his dreams were filled with Arthur, his love.

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That. Was the suckiest ending in the world, I know. But I seriously couldn't think of anything better. So, review please? What did you like? What did you not like? Tell me, it makes me happy and it will help me become a better writer for future stories, including "JNSB Don't Mix".

Thanks!

~OWR


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